


Through The Seasons

by wingedcastielpie (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adopted!Castiel, American Politics, And then John's having a wtf life attitude, Angst, Bass Guitarist!Chuck, Because I Live On The Other Side Of The Planet, Because I don't know how to write such beautiful tragic thing, Big Brother Dean, Castiel is his own awkward self and he likes taking care of stuff, College AU, Crowley being a usual dick, Crowley owning a management and he runs it, Dean Being Dean, Dean was uhm forced to sexually please some asshole so he can be a good brother to Sam, Depressed!Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, Drifting Apart, Drummer!Benny, F/F, Fabulous!Gabriel, Fanfiction Writer!Charlie, Fashion Designer!Anna, Fixer-up Fic, Fluff, Gen, Highschool!Sam, Hurt/Comfort, I Literally Don't Know Anything About American Politics, I mean, I'll literally go down with this Destiel ship, I'm not really sure if there's porn because I've never really tried it before, I've never tried WRITING porn, Like plants and people and things like that, M/M, Mother!Naomi, Murderer!John, Photographer!Charlie, Protective!Gabriel, Romance, Schmoop, Summer, Summer Love, Supportive!Gabriel, This is not going to end like Twist and Shout, Traumatized!Dean, Waiter!Castiel, Winter, Writer!Castiel, Writer!Charlie, Youtuber!Charlie, abusive!John, alcoholic!john, and literally became a serial killer or something like that, band au, because he's looking for what killed Mary, cashier!castiel, depressed!Dean, family!fic, gardener!Castiel, hurt!Dean, hurt!castiel, idek what i'm doing with this fic, photographer!Castiel, singer!dean, smoking!Dean, so like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:37:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/wingedcastielpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Band AU.</p><p>In a time between the heat blasted through in waves— like the calm waves of the lake Lawrence, Kansas impossibly had— and, cold crashed through ruthlessly like a storm in the middle of the night, a story about love was formed through healing Dean Winchester— a member of the famous band, Angels and Demons— and teaching Castiel Milton— a home-schooled boy who struggled to become what his parents wanted him to be, the things in life he can't get from reading texts and observation. </p><p>In this story, love was an instinct, destiny— one might say— that they both can’t deny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Unbeta-ed. Also, I suggest you to reread the tags because this fic is about to be quite disturbing since some parts talks about crime, murder and temporary child prostitution. Also, I have /no idea/ how American politics work. I tried understanding it but I'm still confused with the whole state thing (?) so now I'm just winging this part of the fic. You can teach me about it, if you like. Or, reprimand or something.  
> Disclaimer: This is obviously just a fan work for an amazing TV series, *coughs* religion *coughs*, so I don't own anything. Also, there are songs here that Angels and Demons band used and claimed as their own but, seriously, the songs used here are still owned by the legitimate owners.

 

>   _Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer_  
>  _Do you know you're unlike any other?_  
>  _You'll always be my thunder, and I said_  
>  _Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors_

_—_ Boys Like Girls, "Thunder"

*    *    *

 

 _Destiny_  is one big word that makes you hope about things you can't have.

            People who believe it say that destiny is the reason of all. If something is meant to happen, no matter how much you try to change the plot, it’ll always end up there— one way or another, whether it’s exactly the same to what was planned or you got the worst out of it. Those who believe that it’s just crappy and sappy and for hopeless wimps think that destiny is just another excuse to cover up a mistake, or to make a beautiful outcome from a lie.

            Regardless of what they think of it, they can never stop Dean Winchester— a nineteen year old boy in a boy band called  _Angels and Demons_ — drop by at a small diner/café shop (no one really knows, even the  _owners_  themselves) on the outskirts of this small little town called Lawrence in the middle-of-nowhere Kansas. As a famous lead singer for a famous band, the young lad barely had the time to have some for himself—unless you call memorizing songs—chords and timing and all— under thirty minutes relaxing. So, here he was, away from his band mates (well,  _three_ of his band mates— he was stuck with Gabriel) for a whole summer and back to his hometown in Kansas.

            He was planning to stay there with Sam— his younger brother— and John— his alcoholic, abusive always-out-on-a-job father— until the end of the break, which will be around September. And then, off he and his band mates go to their first stop for their  _Through the Darkness World Tour_.

            The plan was:

  1. Go home
  2. Meet old friends
  3. Relax
  4. Go to the lake with Sam
  5. And just… Be a normal boy for an entire summer.



            That was it. Boring as it sounded, he can do a little normal to get through his band life.

            Nevertheless, never had he imagine a blue-eyed boy (' _Angel'_  if you're going to ask Dean) approaching him, a pad and blue ball-point pen in hand, asking for his order and somehow fitting into his odd little plan— but then again, everything about this boy screamed peculiar and different from what he was used to. 

 

 

 


	2. 1: We Could Be Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel took his night shift and saw the person plaguing his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: This is my first Destiel AU fanfic where American politics are involved, and to be honest, I seriously have no idea how it works— mainly one of the factors why was I’m living in another country that had a government system different from America’s. Also, I don’t know how Hollywood and Managements work because I’m just a poor girl that lives off on fanfics (about gay porn, maybe? Hmm) and food. Also, I’m sorry for the grammatical errors!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

# Chapter 1: We Could Be Stars

 *     *     *

            "Seriously, your parents are prejudicial dicks who wanted nothing but their money." A woman going by the name of Charlie Bradbury commented passionately as she stirred her latte and poured over two tablespoons of milk. Her red hair matched the anger and resentment she was feeling right in that moment. Anyone would if someone talked about one's sexuality like it was the mere thing that can bring a person to Hell, right? "I mean, I know your dad's like 'the next big thing' in the politics, but that doesn't mean he has the right to actually judge _me_ for loving someone with the same fucking gender! God, no offense, dude, but I'd vote Chuck Novak on this one."

            In front of her was a quiet college boy, all messy dark hair and deep midnight-colored eyes. The boy’s voice was way deeper than the average voice of what a teenager should have, considering that he was 19, the same age as Charlie. The tan trench coat he was wearing made the lad look older. Charlie laughed at him when he entered the shop. "Precisely. I have tried explaining to them about the modern era, how the society's finally opening up, but they said 'Castiel Milton! It's not right. We haven't raised you to just accept whatever change is happening. It simply isn't done!'"

            "You know what, Cassie?" Charlie bit down on her Chocolate Chip muffin while she shuffled out of the booth, drinking the rest of the slurpee in one go. "Fuck them, okay? You'll be leaving soon, anyway."

 

            Castiel nodded in response and stayed silent. He wanted to continue ranting with his best friend, but he wasn’t good with words when they were spoken verbally. He knew Charlie wouldn't judge him for who he was, though, and learned a long time ago about Castiel's awkwardness.

            They were the two oddballs that met under the vines of a hanging plant in the town's botanical garden that no one really goes to because no one really wanted to go that deep into the woods and no one really knows how to take care of plants. Charlie was there for references for the 'fanfic' she was writing and Castiel happened to be there to start painting different shades of green. When Charlie introduced herself and asked why Castiel was painting all these green, Castiel—embarrassed to be caught empty- handed without a reason— said that he just felt the urge to start painting green, Castiel didn't know how that appealed to Charlie, but ever since that day, they seemed to have an unspoken agreement that the place under the vines was their rendezvous every five in the afternoon. Also, Castiel started finding comfort in the place and put all his private gardening lessons from Marv—their house gardener— in to use. He even brought small gardening tools from the shed and some seeds, and before he knew it, he had a greenhouse going on full swing with only his hands, YouTube tutorial, Charlie's gadgets and her not-so- green hands.

            Anyway, going back to his unending awkwardness, it has become quite a burden to the young Milton. He grew up, very sheltered and home- schooled, unlike Anna, who took high school and was taking college. He never knew why his parents decided to tuck him under the marble banister of the cold mansion they call home. He never really asked because something was telling him that he _wasn't supposed_ to ask.

             Accompanying this, Castiel never watched the TV series that Charlie watched, nor have he read the books (although, he sneaked Charlie's copy of the _Harry Potter Series_ every once in a while when he found a chance) she favored. She even wanted him to 'cosplay Book!Harry Potter'.  

            What he experienced under his parents' care though were: Bible studies every Sunday (his parents' were strangely religious); right after those were the piano lessons; on Monday morning were the violin ones, then in Tuesday evening, he'll go to his Father's office for political science lesson; then art classes on Wednesday, fencing on Thursday, language lessons on Friday; and in between those were the regular school days where Castiel’s tutor— Elizabeth Barnes, a woman fifteen years older than him— a genius, would grace the Milton's hundred million dollar mansion with her presence to teach him the required subjects until the start of college. The mere thought of Castiel doing nothing productive for four months simply horrified Naomi and Carver Milton.

            Because of these, he was very fluent in multiple languages, has mastered different musical instruments, won four awards for his paintings, and was considered a political prodigy. It didn't help him with people, though. He'd rather learn about cities and people than being a part of them. To him, by simply having the knowledge and the courage to understand served as a connection to these things that alienated him.

            "Hey, are you free today? Like, besides your shift?" Charlie hummed. Castiel noticed that she had a way of asking— her voice breathy and light and plain casual but with an air of seriousness in it. He didn't know how Charlie managed to sound like that— although, he supposed going to The Pit (that's what Charlie calls high school) helped her keep her motives in check.

             Castiel broke free from his thoughts and answered a simple 'yes', his fingers running through the watermark of the D&IC parlor (Donut & Ice Cream parlor) — the place they were in.

            "Cool!" Charlie beamed, her silver braces gleamed against the afternoon light. They've decided to swing by the D&IC parlor before they go to the botanical garden. "I heard Dean Winchester's in town. Wanna check him out?"

            The lad wanted to voice out that he had no idea who 'Dean Winchester' was, but he found himself being dragged by his best friend around the parlor, out the door, and was met by a group of girls and women giggling. Amazingly, there were a few males in the mix as well. Castiel wasn't adept with the whole "fandom" but he was pretty sure if a male band can target females _and_ males, then they were considered to be a good one.

            Castiel raised an eyebrow at the crowd and noticed that Jo was taking pictures while she struggled to get passed the chirping group. "Charlie, Jo's right—"

            "JO! HEY, JO!"

            "CHARLIE!" Red hair billowed around Charlie as she ran across the parking lot and hugged Jo—her girlfriend. Jo smothered Charlie with kisses and Castiel looked away with a smile. He remembered his shock when he found out about Charlie's sexuality— although maybe he should've seen it. Charlie never really flirted around of the opposite sex before and not once did he hear about a date from her. They were in the botanical garden, tending the small _Spiderlily_ near the river when Charlie had brought his hands up in exasperation and had said, "Screw it, I'm lesbian!"

            Castiel had awkwardly stared at Charlie. How was he supposed to react when his friend just confessed to him about her sexuality? Say 'Congratulations'? Nod?

            "Well, say something!" Charlie had whirled around and faced him, the hose spewed water as she tried explaining as if telling Castiel would somehow make her less lesbian. "I mean, you're like the fifth person who knew about this. There's Sam, then Sam's brother, then there's Jo, then Bobby then...You. It's okay if you don't want to be my friend anymore, like why hang out with a _freak_ —"

            "Charlie, it's fine with me. You do not have to explain. I... understand." Castiel had cocked his head to the side and bit his lip. No one really told him the proper way of dealing with an emotional friend. "I am... utterly indifferent to sexual orientation."  
  
            The young adult smiled when he remembered getting wet because Charlie accidentally dropped the hose in happiness, resulting him getting wet because the water was aimed at him from the ground.

            He found himself looking back to the crowd, his eyes searching for the mysterious Dean Winchester everyone talked about. Right in the middle of the giggling females, he saw a flash of dirty blonde hair and leather jacket, and together it was a laugh. A warm, too warm laugh.

            He cocked his head curiously (a habit he somehow acquainted that annoyed his tutor), and he found himself walking over to the group, never really knowing why he was doing that. He just felt like he should… Go there, and see this “Dean Winchester” for himself, that was all. After all, observation was  _his_ best teacher.

            Castiel looked back for Charlie, but he saw his best friend currently being kissed by her girlfriend. Just for the sake of doing nothing (and not looking like he was alone, even if he was), he looked around again, noticing a small van with a symbol of a fire that had a star right in the middle.

            The symbol was _downright_ demonic for those who wouldn’t understand, but Castiel was raised in a religious family, and the books that he had been sneaking around were prohibited by his tutor to read— books about demons, witches, supernatural creatures— he knew about it. The symbol was an anti-possession sigil that was usually tattooed to a body so that a person wouldn’t be possessed by a demon.

            Castiel’s interest piqued as his eyes continued scanning through the parking lot. Right beside the van was a man giggling— probably two or three years older than him— who was carrying two huge packs of silver glitters. He quickly looked away. He wouldn’t want to see what the man was about to do— that would make him a witness— which meant trouble.

            Finally, his eyes found the group again. He continued staring, thinking that maybe he should go check, but he didn’t really know the proper etiquette in approaching a famous person. Should he scream, too? That would hurt his vocal chords. If approaching this lad would mean that he should scream, maybe he should think otherwise? What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to say his name? Would _Dean_ Winchester even care if he said his name? Would he even remember?

            Castiel saw a girl pushing her chest to the lad— whose back was turned on him— and signed it. Castiel’s eyes widened. Should he insist on making the lad sign him in the chest, too? But, that’s ridiculous! Or, maybe not? Maybe it was a part of the proper way? So, does that mean that he should’ve carried a marker? But, wouldn’t that be difficult to remove? So, maybe a whiteboard marker or a washable one will do? But, why go through the trouble of making this lad sign when it can be easily removed?

            Castiel’s frown deepened. Who knew satisfying one’s curiosity about a person could be so… tiring? He never had this kind of trouble when he was younger, seeing as the only questions he had were of the subjects he was surrounded with.

            Maybe he can ask Charlie? Charlie’s knowledgeable about social attitude. It's very ironic how he spent his childhood being proper for campaigns and yet, never really knew the etiquette of the society he wasn't quite in. Or, maybe he should check this “Dean Winchester” later in the computer his mother has in her office? He would have to sneak in, since that was the only thing that had an access to the internet...But, that would be breaking the rules! He can't break these rules when the Milton couple's around. He wasn't exactly fond of rules, and he'd most likely ignore them rather than follow them; however, his parents can be quite terse and strict and _creative_ when they punish Castiel.

            He shook his head and pushed this “Dean Winchester” out of his mind. Thinking about him would only put him in trouble, and he didn’t want trouble especially when his mother’s involved. For now, he'd play it safe and stay away from everything that would tempt him into being wayward.

            Castiel didn’t like conflicts, and conflicts were usually nothing but trouble. So, he’ll avoid trouble, too. And, right now, his head was screaming for him to run away as fast as he can.

 

*          *          *

 

            "Cassie, mother called a while ago. She'll be going to the Biggie Green Apple of USA and do some sort of campaign shit or something like that." Anna, Castiel’s older sister, said as she fixed her hair in an intricate braid while hurrying to put on her heels— the one that had a long stick of metal as the heel. Simply seeing his sister walking on that made him cringe and worry. What if she tripped and broke her neck? Or her leg? What if she accidentally stepped on someone using those? At the same time, he didn't really need to worry for his sister. The mere pair of heels can be her murder weapon, if ever she became a murderer. Castiel thought the dramatic and sophisticated flare of those heels quite fit with Anna's pish posh personality.

             Castiel watched as she darted to her walk-in closet and came out with a nice pair of jeans—navy blue and washed— together with a pale pink cropped top (... He knew about what it was called because Anna wouldn't stop talking about it when they first bought it) that had a very sparkly word written on it. He didn’t bother reading the word because he was too busy panicking.

            "Anna, I—" Anna caught the look of apprehension on his younger brother's face and snorted.

            "Aw, come on, Cassie love! Mother’s in New York, we're in Kansas, there's literally a thousand miles between us, Dean Winchester is in this town and _I'm_ going to have fun." There it was that name again. Nevertheless, Castiel chose to ignore it as he watched Anna proceeded to go inside her walk-in closet for the 4th time that day and started stripping. Or that was what he thought she was doing, anyway. His assumptions were proven to be true when a black and laced brassiere flew out of the door and landed on his lap.

            He stared at the ceiling in exasperation, begging to the God up there to please look out for his older sister. And, possibly for his sanity.

            "I don’t understand how you can stand the mess, Anna. And, the last time you did this, Mother caught you doing a clandestine business with your male friend. It didn't end well, and I can remember you saying that 'My life's so fucked up and she just has to ruin what little thing that I actually work hard for!'"

            "Hold up, Cassie. First of all, have you seen your Painting Room? This baby's considered a Doctor's bathroom compared to _that_. Second, it's called dating! Third, it's _Forbidden Love_ for a reason. Fourth, he is my _boyfriend_ which is different from a male friend and lastly, what I said was true! I am already 22 years old, I am a college student, and very much an adult!" The red-haired woman sauntered into the bed, grabbed the condoms she asked for Castiel to buy (which he never really wanted to do ever again. Everyone assumed that he was going to have sexual intercourse) from his pocket and shoved them all down into her purse and zipped it up. Castiel didn’t want to know why she asked for him to buy eight condoms, but he had some ideas and never really wanted to entertain them.

            Castiel understood his sister more than anyone, actually. He grew up with her, they did things  that their mother would be mad about, (mainly because he always found himself being dragged by her to do things that excites _her_ and excites him as well, but don’t tell her that or her head will get too big for her body) and told each other's secrets to each other. Or Anna did, anyway. He wasn’t comfortable sharing his emotions unlike Anna's endless enthusiasm of talking about them.

            If ever someone had found his sister's body burnt to ashes, he would still know it somehow even if she was almost two years older, and of a different gender from him. 

            “What time will you be home?” Castiel asked and the redhead rolled her eyes as she dashed in front of the mirror and adjusted her makeup for the nth time that day.

            “Jesus Christ, _Cas_ ,” Anna taunted him, knowing that saying God’s name, or his son’s name anyway, annoy him. “If you insist, Your _Holiness_ , I’d be back around two.”

            “But the curfew’s by mid—”

            “I’LL BE BACK AROUND TWO, AND IF I’M NOT, WE’RE GOING TO REVEREND JAMES AND I’LL CONFESS MY SWEET DIRTY WORSHIP THAT I DO TO MY BOYRFRIEND’S DIC—”

            “Just _go_ , Anna!”

            “LOVE YOU, BABY BRO! TA TA FOR NOW!”

            And the conversation ended when the slam of the front door was heard, the frame that said "Home Sweet Home" bounced off the hook and fell to the floor.

            “CASSIE, LOOKIN’ GOOD ON THAT SEX HAIR YOU’RE SPORTI—”

            “GOODBYE, ANNA.”

            Or, maybe not.

            “BUT, SER—”

            “HOW ABOUT NO!”

            “Fucker Loser Wanker.”

            “I _don_ _’_ _t_ wank—”

            “Oh, _please_ ¸ you’re—”

            “Do you wish for me to do it in front of you?”

            “Gross! Dude, ew!”

            “THEN TAKE YOUR BAG AND _GO_!”

            A few micro-waved burgers, a movie and lots of confusion later, Castiel was left grumbling on the couch of his room as the credits of the movie he was watching started to roll. This is _exactly_ the main reason why he never really watched any films with anyone— unless with Anna, sometimes. He can barely understand _half_ of the references mentioned. Death Star? TARDIS?

            With a sigh, he stood up, turned off the television, changed into his outdoor clothes— since he needed to digest what he just watched and it had been proven to be an efficient method to relax by having a walk outside (even if it’s already 6 in the evening).

            Besides, his shift was officially changed to 10 PM – 4 AM yesterday, and he needed to drop by the nearest bookstore to purchase the next installation of the book series he has been reading. Although breaking the rules unnerved him and set him to anxiety with the fear that his parents would punish him for being wayward— this time— the aforementioned people weren’t in the situation and he was much more untroubled. After all, his sister was not around to actually have fun outside, and if she can… Well, Castiel too, can’t he?

            For the first time that day, he ignored the voices at the back of his mind telling him to be an obedient little soldier, and _actually_ just stay inside the house, and act like a normal human that he, well, was. Their parents weren't around... So, perhaps he can get out of the trouble? Maybe?

            Lawrence has always been the small town in Kansas that wasn't as loud as any other towns in it. It’s a rarely eventful town, much to Castiel’s disappointment, save it from the paparazzi or reporters and journalists that often tried taking photos of the Milton family— to scandalize or to praise, Castiel never knew. The familiar, too familiar, willow tree that stood in their backyard served as the shade of a nearby park bench. Sweeping across the red rooftop were the vines that carried white flowers with them, making the mansion have the effortless homey feeling to it— despite the size.

            As the youngest Milton brushed past the hanging vines, he started walking in the road, humming a sonata under his breath as he went by, the sound of church bells echoed from the distance. The stars seem to wink back at him as his blue eyes reflected the dark sky, the trees that danced with the wind whispered in his ear the secrets they will surely bear to their grave. His Vans were a contrast to the gray pavement that emitted glitter-like sparkle that has always mesmerized Castiel in a rather child-like way. It has always been a focus when the family goes out, with his head always down and criticizing, and Naomi reprimanding Castiel to walk—his head held high with "pride and dignity! What people see from the media represents us as a whole would affect me and your father!"

            Lately, however, he was losing the will to follow his parents' orders. "Castiel, you shall become the lawyer." No. He wanted to be a writer, a photographer, a psychologist or a painter. Bidding others to follow the law wasn't really his forte, seeing as even their house pet and his sister Anna rarely follows him. Another example was he didn't really exemplify black-and-white justice as much as he would for mercy and compassion. It wasn't that he would tolerate wrong doings, it was because he always believed that there was a reason as to why people would do such things, and it was up to the court to judge the _reason_ behind it and not the act itself.

            Swinging his hands around, his thoughts continued to drift between the possibilities that can happen if he never followed his parents in an occasion. How would he be punished if he watched TV way past his bedtime (if they ever had)? What would happen if he sneaked into his mother's office and entered _his_ name?

            Castiel stopped with a jolt, realizing that his mind has traveled far faster than he could ever run, as if his very thoughts had wings on them and carried him away. What was he thinking, such forbidden thoughts crossing his mind? He knew not to imagine them, seeing as his curiosity contradicted his parents' judgment from the very start. It was nice to think about it for a while though. The 'what if's' that were simply too shameful to even think about...

            Right in front of him was the shop/diner where he worked in for the night shift. The open sign flickered as moths gathered around it.

            Castiel walked to the door and opened it, seeing Garth, Anna's friend, the person designated to take the afternoon shift. Garth was an oddball of loud mouth, immediately saying his thoughts he has right in that moment, though he never hurt anyone. Castiel had once noticed that Garth has such great perception and he thought that it was the reason why he was accepted, however dismayed Naomi was. Castiel liked Garth in general, except when he tries to make small talk, which Castiel wasn't really adept at.

            The bell rang and Garth looked up, a dopey smile in his face. Castiel also took note of Garth's ever enthusiastic approach to people. It was also one of the reasons why he liked the man.

            "Hey, Castiel! Howdy! How're ya?" Garth beamed, his brown eyes gleamed with sincerity. His name tag was slightly crooked to the left and his collar was in disarray and his dirty blonde hair looked like it was attacked by a comb and gel. Castiel saw the insistent tapping of Garth's fingers on the cashier counter and the bobbing of his head as if he was dancing along to an unheard music.

             "I'm doing fine, Garth. How about you?" Castiel immediately went into business and removed his hoody, walking along the aisle into the door that marked "Employees Only". Behind it was the storage room and the lockers of the employees. The teenager left the door ajar, listening to Garth's animated response to Castiel's question.

            Castiel didn't mean to space out while listening to Garth's reply. He really didn't. However, when Garth spoke of the name _Dean Winchester_ , Castiel called back a _what_ and asked about what Garth was saying.

            Garth didn't look offended at all and instead, happily yapped away.

            "Yeah, he swung 'round here a while ago and ordered a coffee—black with two sugars and one creamer. He told me to man the door so he can run away from his fans. TBH, I was surprised he asked me to do that. I mean, I know the man loves his fans, I just never thought of him as a _human_ , you know? I never thought about it once that he also needed his space and all, with the constant wagging the fans do. I understand him, though. Like, imagine yourself as a rock star!" Garth exclaimed, his hands wildly swinging around in an attempt to express his bewilderment.

             "Wait, _what_ do you call him? Popstar? Countrystar? Bandstar? Pornstar? The looks that man has are seriously porn-worthy, though. Anyway, it's cool to have people wanting to know stuff about you because some people in this world think you're _genuinely_ interesting. But, what if you want to keep something quiet? And not in the I- killed- a- man kind of way, but more of the private stuff that's only for friends and family, right?"

            Castiel nodded mutely and adjusted his name tag. He wondered whether if Dean really did love his fans or he only does it for publicity. It wasn't like he regarded the rock star negatively. He was just filled with so many questions about Dean's personality that he didn't notice Garth slip behind the registrar.

            "Oh, Garth!" Castiel called. "May I ask what time he went in?"

            "'Round 4 to 5? Look, man, I gotta go. I promised Gabriel a night out."

            "Gabriel?" Castiel questioned before he stops himself. He guessed it was fine. Garth's used to his already strange thinking. He was even surprised when Garth goes along with whatever he was just saying!

            "Yeah, this dude I met a while ago. He was in _Angels and Demons_ , too, actually. Gabriel Novak, that's his name. Short stack with blonde hair and cool gold eyes. Although he carries a ridiculous amount of glitter with him, he's an awesome guy. Better watch for your butt, though, bro. He likes practical jokes." Garth came out of the employee room and darted to the door. "Au Revoir, Castiel!"

            "And you too, Garth."

            Castiel went around the counter and watched Garth's tan pick-up truck disappear into the fast lane. Without the sound of the car, he heard the thumping bass of a pop song playing from the speakers that was close to the shop. People milled around with various things in their hands— from lollipops and cotton candies to the hands of their lovers. There were lanterns strung in the trees, together with fairy- lights, kites that were caught from the branches earlier that day and odd circles that somehow resembled moths. The mood outside seemed to pass through the _Milton's Serendipity's_ bay window and brought Castiel into a wave of nostalgia and a sense of longing to be a part of the happening outside, even if he'd retreat to his internal shell whenever someone approached him.  

            Sighing, he turned back and looked around the store, his eyes already feeling quite droopy from the sleep he missed that afternoon.

            Castiel decided then to play a fast beat music, or the like. If he refrained himself from listening slow, sad songs or acoustic love songs, then maybe, just maybe, he'd feel less out of place. He opened the computer's Chrome and went to YouTube, caving into his curiosity at last and typed in the name that was bouncing around his head for the entire day then listen.

            Castiel scrolled through the playlist of the band's most popular songs and decided to play it into the shop's sound system. The mere thought of enjoying music while the customer-less diner gave him the thrill, chasing away... The desolation he was feeling. He had the place for himself the _entire_ night. Well, 10 PM until 4 AM anyway.

            Bobbing his head along with the beat of _Here's To The Zeros,_ he listened to the lyrics as he stocked up the things behind and in the cashier area, starting from the small items such as the candies down to the heavier things like the beer.

 

_Hey kids, do you wanna do what I do?_

_I got sick, got kicked out of high school._

_I guess then, I kinda got arrested,_

_With a car and a chase and a drug test._

 

             The teenager's eyes widened in surprise. This is the kind of music _Angels and Demons_ make? He cocked his head in confusion. But he thought it had something to do with religious actions and beliefs and not about teenage rebellion and media? As he continued stocking up the cookie jar on the counter while sipping from his mug of coffee every once in a while, the bell rang and...

 

_But these days, they don't wanna be near that._

_'Cause if it's selling records they don't wanna hear that._

_Clean cut, we do it like Disney._

 

            Castiel looked up and saw the shades of green he attempted to paint over a year ago. He blinked. And then, blinked. And blinked for what must've been the fifth time.

            The young lad that went in glided through the booths and settled on the last one, the booth that was by the wall of honors and the stock room. His brown leather jacket with matching black combat boots stood out against the green chairs and cream tables.

            Castiel watched as the man slouched down and eyed his hands at the back of his neck up to his dirty blonde hair. He somehow knew who this was. Besides the fact the he had never _ever_ seen this man before, he just carried this odd _presence..._

_Dean Winchester_

            Here he was, the enigma that ghosted Castiel's thoughts and the memory of this man following him all throughout the day. He didn't know what to expect, though. Maybe a simple smirk? A smile? Small talk? He was always so nervous of making small talk, however, his interests outweighed his troubles.

            He admitted that he can't help but to daydream about the rock star... Or was it pop star? Country star? What was the genre of their music? He heard that it was Country rock/ Pop rock? Anyway, it wasn't that hard, though. Besides, he liked thinking about meeting this person and... Perhaps being his friend?

            He snapped out of his thoughts and brought out the notepad from the apron that was slung around his waist a little too tight for his liking, but it would've slipped off when he's having a busy night. He didn't like it much when the apron's wrapped around his entire body. It quite felt constricting.

            Before he went out of the counter though, he faced the small mirror beside the cabinet containing the supply of the salt. Overall, he looked fine, except for his untamable hair. Charlie and Anna called it the "sex hair" and swore that it was enough to drive "women _and_ men to their knees and beg for your dominance!" Until this day, he never quite understood its appeal. This was one of the reasons why he _loved_ Harry Potter. No one can understand the feeling of windblown hair like Harry can.

            Strolling through the booths, he bit his lip and focused on the lad. Castiel knew he needed to act calm and reserved and not at all _ruffled_ by this man's presence.

            He sighed through his nose and ran his fingers through his hair for the last time, then stopped in front of Dean. Or, beside Dean's booth, anyway.

            Castiel poised his notebook and pen, then looked up to see Dean... Surprised? Shock? Annoyed? Flabbergasted? Emasculated? Wait, emasculated _what_? Why was he thinking of that?

            Speaking of emasculated, perhaps this was what Charlie was talking about. He had never really felt much for boys around his age, perhaps appreciate a good feature every once in a while; although, he can't stop it, not really. Castiel's eyes were for art, and when he sees one, he'd most likely stare too much and study it so he'd know how it would look like in real life when he paints it.

            But, _Dean Winchester was one of the greatest masterpieces God has made_ besides the Grand Canyon— wait, who was he to compare Dean's beauty to well-sculpted rocks? Well, actually, Dean's cheekbones and jaw were simply too _perfect_ for it to be natural. Of course God crafted Dean himself using His own hands. And his eyes? Those— those were the exact shades that Castiel had in mind when he told Charlie about the shades of green. Ever since the past year, he was _obsessed_ — _no, hellbent_ — in trying to copy them. Even though Castiel did his best to mask his awe and childlike wonder over Dean's masculine doll-like features, he can't help but to feel like Dean can see right through him— with his eyes still wide, as if he can read Castiel's mind.                               

            He mentally frowned in his head. Was there something in his face that he perhaps missed? Or... Or maybe because Dean Winchester's familiar with his face? What if he recognized Castiel from the campaigns and the articles? Their family was very well known _around the world_ so he wouldn't be surprised that Dean Winchester was shock to see Castiel Milton, the son of the Naomi and Carver Milton, serving him dinner in a 4$ apron.

            He sighed through his nose. He's done for.

 

 


End file.
